Mafia: Law and Order of The Trade
by SoyMilkBambo
Summary: The Asian Mafia is much less then pleased when then Italians fall through on a drug deal. In order to deal with this form of disrespect and failure, Wang Yao and his crew have a new member, and he is much less then friendly to rule breakers.  R and R!
1. Chapter 1

Wang Yao sat upon an ebony chair in a near vacant, cool, shady room. The said room was surrounded by windows on three sides; the 'night life' illuminating the features of the Asian man and his only guests.

The enclosed space held the heavy aroma of opium that wafted out from the glossy, detailed cherry wood pipe that was idle in Wang Yao's hand. His son, Jia Long Wang, was close at hand, standing behind his father's chair with a look of silent vehemence on his usually composed face. Two young girls lounged on the Chinese mans right; Lan and Mei. Kiku sat atop a mahogany table, absently polishing his katana with an underlying note of malice. Finally, cruising around the room like sharks was Somchai, Hyung Soo, and Im Yong Soo. Sitting center were the supposed 'guests' of the evening: the Italian's.

Lovino eyed the large group of Asian's with ill concealed unease. Feliciano and Azelio, however, kept up a seemingly airy and naïve countenance. Business was business, regardless of the size of the mafia groups, when a blow to pride, insult, or a fall-out on a deal.

Such an occasion had brought this 'meeting' of the two gangs to commence, and Yao's deliberate silence was starting to irk the hell out of the Italians.

"Now," The Chinese man finally spoke, his dark brown eyes holding deep amusement. "What is this I hear about you falling out on the drug shipments, aru?" At this inquiry, Lovino swallowed hard; Feliciano and Azelio temporarily let their smiles falter.

"I'm waiting, aru…"

Lovino lost his patience and sprang up from the plush sofa in which they were seated, and jabbed an accusing finger at the seated Chinese man, his voice somewhat shrill.

"We're tired of dealing with your orders and shit!" He yowled. "We aren't your fuckin' _servants_, you bastards!" He was working himself into a fit of rage, Azelio and Feliciano proceeded to stand as well.

"What fratello _means_ to say,-"Feliciano began, looking to Azelio for help. The Seborgan male took the hint and proceeded from where his brother left off. "We are not a-takin' orders anymore. Just because you are a-huge group doesn't a-mean you can boss _us_ around." The strawberry blonde crossed his arms with a little too chipper grin. "That's right bastards!" Lovino was practically hopping about with feeling for the current moment. "So you better get that message through your damn chinky heads before we pump ya' fulla lead!" Upon the last statement, Lovino stamped his foot down on the fine coffee table before him, causing the elegant set of porcelain to unsettle and topple to the floor with a pin like shatter.

Yao observed this outburst with mirth filled eyes, and took a long, slow draft from the pipe. "That was a very expensive tea set, aru," the Chinese man stated slowly, leisurely setting the antique pipe down on its stand before arising from his seat.

"Now, you Italian brothers have always been such good partners, Anaa~" Somchai cooed, passing rather closely to Azelio, whilst Hyung Soo and Yong Soo weaved their between Feliciano and Lovino; Yong Soo's smiled was as cold as splintered ice, but Hyung Soo remained indifferent, save for his eyes, which showed blood lust.

Mei and Lan giggled from the back crossing to the back behind the Italian's, both girls flashing switch blades that were only partly concealed in their oriental fans. Kiku slid off the table, purposely neglecting to sheath his katana, and Jia Long Wang strode into the luminescent light that bled through the window from the outside city, idly twirling a cluster of explosives.

Yao promptly waltzed forward to face the three Italian's before him as the rest of the Asian's formed a loose circle like starving carrion birds; highly anticipating blood spill.

"B-Bastards," Lovino whimpered, his voice had the tell-tale frightened tinge to it. Lovino was all talk, and absolutely no 'walk'. Azelio and Feliciano closed ranks, trying to keep close to one another. "You don't scare us," Azelio said in a subdued tone. "Do you think we a-did not arrive unarmed?" He flashed a glimpse of a revolver that was partially hidden in his tux pocket. Feliciano's child-like grin grew to a sinister extent. "Si~ and we also studied your behaviors and skills," at this he made a menacing giggle. "Did you think we didn't work with your group for a reason?"

"W-We can anticipate every one of your moves, you bastards," Lovino chimed in, his confidence returning somewhat.

"I expected such, aru," Yao answered with an airy laugh. His laugh was echoed by his group members present. "So I had something to fall back on, or rather, _someone_." His lips curled into a sultry smile.

He snapped his fingers, and Hyung Soo pulled off to the side before beckoning a figure to come forward, Yong Soo and Somchai suppressed a dark chuckle, Mei and Lan giggling in the back.

Jia Long Wang finally spoke up, his voice monotone. "We picked him up on our last trip to the Mekong River. He was apparently raised with Tigers… Oddly enough, he was fully coherent in speaking terms…" The Cantonese man looked blankly at the three Italians that now stood rigid before him. "We didn't want to introduce him too early… Think of it as a… _surprise_." Kiku looked up from where he was tracing the keen edge of his sword with the pad of his finger. "You must forgive us for delaying his appearance."

There was a brief silence as slight shuffling from the back resounded in the eerily cool room. From the abyss, a short and slender figure slowly tip-toed its way to the gathering. The figures steps were delicate, careful, as if it was wary to the occupants around it.

Yao smiled in its' direction, encouraging it with the crook of his finger, before jerking his head in the direction of the Italian trio. Abruptly, the figure sped up its pace with aggressive eagerness, halting as Yao pulled it short by a satin collar.

Feliciano looked nervously at Azelio and Lovino, edging closer to each other, their previous gusto and confidence now dissipated, wondering what was instore.

Yao gently pulled the figure into the dim lighting, revealing a slight young Cambodian; only about 5'4 in height with very lightly tanned skin and a long, thick downward extending curl.

Lovino erupted with laughter.

"_THAT'S YOUR LITTLE 'WEAPON'?" _he howled, stamping his feet with mirth, Feliciano and Azelio joining in.

Yao just smiled coyly, waiting for them to calm their humored air.

When they had quieted, he proceeded to adjust his grip on the smaller Asian's collar.

"I'd like you to meet Chanthou, aru… Unfortunately for_ you _he is a little… How should I say it….?"

"Mad? Out of the loo? A trained killer?" Mei suggested helpfully.

"Exactly, aru."

Hyung Soo started to pace again, Somchai and Yong Soo following suit.

"Now down to business," Kiku began, looking at his reflection in the silvery sheen of the katana. "You **will** follow through on the deal, or we will resort to human resources." At this, Yao nodded in approval, stroking Chanthou's hair slightly.

The Khmer did not respond, his eyes were locked on the Italians before him, his eyes flashing with auburn light; animalistic need to attack.

The look of utter loathing in the young Khmer's face disturbed the Italians.

It was unnatural.

Unhuman…

Yao chuckled darkly, "I am waiting for your response… Aru…"

"You bastard!" Lovino screeched with rage, pulling his revolver free from his coat.

"Chanthou… You know what to do…" Yao released the collar.

"Baht," was the whispered response.

The peace of the night was shattered by the sound of crashing glass, flashes, and rounds of gun-fire.

Yells and startled screams pierced the cool late night air only seconds after.

OK. SO.

Somchai= Thailand (unofficial)

Hyung Soo= North Korea (unofficial)

Jia Long Wang= Hong Kong (unofficial)

Azelio= Seborga (unofficial)

Lan= Vietnam (unofficial)

Chanthou= Cambodia (OC)

Please Review! I **MAY **continue this if it is liked.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a fiasco. Disaster. A utter and complete embarrassment. These were the rolling, procellous and biting thoughts that quipped and prattled in Wang Yao's mind as he slowly bandaged a wound on Yong Soo's back, muttering all the while.

The once luxurious pent-house was now reduced to a mess of splintered glass and the dust of countless oriental collectibles that were now destroyed beyond recognition.

Through the many broken windows of the room, a cold fluttering breeze tickled the frock of the lace curtains; half light from the lively city bled through into the shamble of a room, as did the shrieking sirens and coarse melody of the night.

"We should have waited aru!" Yao griped, pulling on Yong Soo's wraps with intense aggression, causing the Korean to wince.

"Aniki…."

"Chanthou wasn't ready! The fool injured himself in his haste, aru," the Chinese man rambled, tying the band-aids with vehemence, eliciting an aggravated glare from the injured Korean, who rose quickly and stalked icily to the other corner of the room, stepping gingerly over shredded documents and needle-like shards of glass that hid in the plush carpet.

The Oriental posse wasn't faring very well as a whole, to tell the truth. Hyung Soo limped dejectedly; his thigh had been shot thrice; the blood soaking through the expensive silk suit like a crimson note of mockery. Somchai had been given a generous bruise above his brow; the Thai would gingerly tap the knot and wince every now and then. Kiku was in the worse shape, breathing in ragged wheezes and slumped beside a dilapidated oak book-case as the girls tried to staunch the bleeding from his side. Jia Long Wang merely had a bloody lip, a slight flaw in stitching on the quilt of his continence. Chanthou was nestled in the cushions of the bullet pocked couch, shivering with exhaustion and pain. All present were looking at Yao inquiringly; some with blame and reproach. The Chinese man knew it was his duty to assure the others, but there was no way to sugar-coat their down-fall in power-play.

His over confidence in his newest pupil had nearly cost them their lives'; Yao knew this painful and pride-shredding truth. It would have been far more prudent to have waited for the others, far more tactical and safe. However, now he was paying the price as he gazed upon his disheveled followers and ruined room.

Yao shuddered as a breeze from the many bare windows' stroked the back of his neck before speaking.

"We have failed, all of us," he began, before being cut off by Hyung Soo who was in quite a felonious mood.

"Well no shit," the North Korean snapped, viciously kicking at the once lustrous coffee table, sending the remaining fine china to its doom among the other bits of rumble and ruin. "The Italians got away," he continued, his voice dropping in timbre, causing the rest to shiver in grim expectation. "And now we are going to have to deal with the fucking Germans."  
>The impact of the words were instantaneous as Mei and Lan sharply in took air and Somchai's farce smile disappeared completely. They could do nothing for a few heart-beats but sway with tire and disbelief.<p>

The German's; fewer in number, but strong with a taste for vengeance. The German's had recently been adding to the arsenal of its members, as far as the other Mafia groups knew. Last time they got news from an informant, the Germanic group had decided to welcome a Hungarian woman as well as a Belgian woman, which more or less made a fight equal for Mei and Lan.

After a few moments of no sound but the bickering of traffic many stories below and the sound of their own sparse breathing while they brewed over their own thoughts, Jia Long Wang spoke.

"We must go," the young Cantonese man stated, looking directly at his father before turning his face to the rest of the group. "Kiku is unwell; Hyung Soo is going to bleed out if we continue to mill about like idiotic oxen. Bába, we will rest at my villa." Yao merely nodded numbly at his sons words, too caught up by his failure to the group and his fatal mistakes. Seeing that his father was making no movement of authority to get things moving, Jia Long Wang jerked his head toward Kiku before nodding toward Hyung Soo. The North Korean took the silent command and prowled over, scooping up the agonized Japanese man and making his way toward the door. Lan and Mei dusted off their skirts, giving the room one last despairing glance before also exiting. Yao had to be guided out by the gentle nudge of Yong Soo before he was able to break free from his reverie, stumbling out the door like a dead-man.

Jia Long Wang tapped his foot watching as the rest exited, pulling out a lighter and flicking the fuse absently. He found the dim illumination and cold steel of the lighter comforting, like a friend that would willingly erase all evidence of their failure, which it very well was. As soon as his gang was well into the elaborate and gilded hall-way, Jia Long Wang tugged an ever present explosive from his pocket, staring at it for a moment before deftly lighting the fuse and tossing it into the disgraceful room. The Cantonese man turned slowly, his hand idle on the cool brass knob, pausing to listen to the steady hiss of the fuse as he closed the door.

Turning briskly, he hurried down the hall towards the elevator, keeping in mind that the others would be outside waiting. The silence that enveloped him was relaxing, probing him to think and plot for the doubtless effect of the night. Jia Long Wang would eventually take over the gang from his father, something he both dreaded and anticipated. He also knew that Yong Soo would most likely settle down with Yao when the time came, which would leave their group short by two.

His train of thought was interrupted as the elevator doors purred open, welcoming the Cantonese man with its soft provencal music and gloriously overly expensive painted interior. Sighing, Jia Long Wang stepped in, jabbing the glowing button for the lobby and then pressing the 'close doors' button in order to speed up the process. The ride down was uneventful, and soon over. The Cantonese man strode briskly out at a light trot, his steps making fine clicking sounds on the crème hued marble flooring.

As he opened the doors, he was greeted by the fresh, cool caress of the air and the ever present and distant law enforcement sirens. Turning his head, he saw the rest of the group milling about, waiting. He merely nodded towards them and they continued on their way, only to come to a halt only a block from where they started.

The fuse had reach completion on the explosive that Jia Long Wang had left in the mussed up room, going off with a deafening explosion and a wave of heat. The sounds of odds and ends being incinerated and the fierce glare of the flames traced their facial features with golden orange light, casting shadows on their features so that they could not read one another's expressions. The group stood on the cracked pavement, watching the inferno burn in silence as in destroyed all evidence of what had occurred that night. Only when the fire department was in hearing distance did they beat a hasty retreat, fleeing to the parking complex to pick up their limo.

They were greeted by a none too zealous Indonesian young man.

"Figures! You let kid go with you and leave me here as the chauffeur!" He snarled, pointing an accusing finger and Chanthou, who snapped at the digit mockingly. "What kind of plenipotentiary endemic group is this if the leader is unable to sufficiently- hey… What the hell happened to Kiku!" The man had stopped in mid rant and bounded forward to inspect the injured Japanese man. Hyung Soo pinched the bridge of his nose while trying to balance Kiku in the crook of his other arm. "Septian, we don't have time for this, damn you," the Northern Korean barred his teeth in animal-like grimace. "Are you going to just stand there like a duck ready to broil or are you going to fucking get us to Jia's Long's place?" Septian made as though he were about to argue, before turning curtly and unlocking the limo.

"Fine, get in."

* * *

><p><strong>Well, I'm not as pleased as this chapter as I was with the first, however, it'll do I suppose. Next chapter has more ChinaKorea, introduces the German's, and a guest appearance of Alfred. As you may have noticed, I changed my Cambodia OC's name to "Chanthou", a uni-sexual name meaning "flower". Personally, I did it because his former name was used a lot by others.**

**Alright, if you didn't already know the names that I used for the Asian's that do not have an official name (i.e. : "Lan", "Somchai", "Septian"…) here's the list once more.**

**Somchai= Thailand (unofficial)**

**Hyung Soo= North Korea (unofficial)**

**Jia Long Wang= Hong Kong (unofficial)**

**Azelio= Seborga (unofficial)**

**Lan= Vietnam (unofficial)**

**Chanthou= Cambodia (OC)**

**Septian= Indonesia (unofficial/possible OC)**

**Also, taking recommendations for Singapore's character/name as well as more of Western Asia. I do imagine the Asians (or ASEANS hurrhurr~) being a massive group.**

**Oh, did you guys hear that Hyung Soo got a new leader since the old one died…?**

**Anyways, please review to have the next chapter full of German and American goodness with some undertones of China/Korea and GerIta!**


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